Logos, Ethos, Pathos
by the.woods
Summary: *UPDATED* “Why aren’t I dead?” Hermione asked. Draco sneered in response. “I think we all know why you’re still breathing, Granger.” DH; Hr/Theodore, Hr/D
1. Logos

**­Title: **Logos, Ethos, Pathos  
**Author:** neverlookback  
**Summary: **"Why aren't I dead?" Hermione asked. Draco sneered in response. "I think we all know why you're still breathing, Granger." Hr/D, Hr/Theo  
**Rating:** PG-13 for violence  
**Notes:** I'm thinking of making a prologue to accompany this piece; it'll focus on Hermione, Theodore and Draco during school, before the war, and show how things developed between them and why they are the way they are now. What do you think?  
**Word Count:** 1,445 (for now)

x.x.x

Logos—the voice in her head that told her to run.

She saw red. Thighs stinging, lungs screaming; heartbeat quickening with every step, her entire body in anguish—

And yet, she didn't stop.

A bright blue ray of light sizzled past her. She had no time to be surprised. Her reactions had to be honed, specific, in order to keep her alive.

Beyond the corner, a boy—a boy in a black robe, hood up, arm extended, Dark Mark shimmering under the hallway's lights—fired a curse in the opposite direction. Colin Creevey hysterically screamed out a protection spell in defense. Neither noticed Hermione. She flung her arm out, wand ever the ready, still running, and screamed—

"_Petrificus totalus!_"

The junior Death Eater fell to the ground, shocked and frozen. Colin—_poor Colin_—watched the Death Eater—_Crabbe? Was that Crabbe?_—in horror. Hermione grabbed Colin as she ran, turning his attention away from the two bodies crumpled on the floor.

"We've got…to find Harry and Ron," she yelled breathlessly over the explosions. Turning another corner, she muttered "_lumos_" and kicked open a door to a nearby classroom. It was empty.

"My brother," Colin frantically whispered. "My brother—"

Convinced they were safe, Hermione tugged Colin into the room, extinguished her light, and closed the door.

Hermione caught her breath before speaking. "Listen to me, Colin." She placed her hands on his shoulders, shaking him. "You need to stay alert. Focus on surviving. Can you do that?"

Colin didn't move.

"Can you do that, Colin?"

Silence. And then—

"My brother, he's…"

"Dead." She paused. "I'm sorry, but we've got to survive!"

An explosion in the distance seemed to shake Colin out of his shock. "What do we do?"

"We stick together, that's what," Hermione answered authoritatively. "If we get separated, meet the rest of the Order in the Room of Requirement. Find any stragglers and run for it." She shook Colin once more for emphasis. "Got it?"

He nodded; she felt it rather than saw it.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione opened the door. At the end of the hallway, a blond Death Eater fired off curses into the distance. Hermione hoped to the gods that whoever it was didn't notice her and Colin. For precaution, she turned to the boy and spoke quickly.

"When I say run, you run, no questions asked."

"But—"

"No questions asked!" She silenced him with a stare.

They made their way into the hallway, walking—creeping—as fast and as quietly as they could.

"Mudblood!"

Colin turned around. Hermione cursed before sprinting into a run. Both Gryffindors took off at top speed.

He fired curses; they deflected them. The Death Eater gave chase; they managed to reach the staircase unharmed.

"We're almost there!" Colin yelled. Hermione, sweat dripping down her brow, could make out the familiar corridor in the distance. She inhaled deeply through her nostrils and forced her legs to carry her faster.

The Death Eater landed at the end of the stairwell and fired a curse at Hermione's back. She turned around and successfully deflected it; unfortunately, she lost her balance in the process and fell backwards.

Colin came to a slow run. "Hermione!" He yelled a curse in the Death Eater's direction, knocking him backwards.

The young Griffyndor scrambled towards Hermione. She saw, at the other end, another dark-robbed, hooded figure.

Another Death Eater.

"Colin," she gasped. "Run!"

The look in his eyes spoke of resistance. A split-second felt like minutes ticking by as she watched the dialog taking place within his irises. First, the voice of passion, of emotion, begged him to sympathize with his fallen comrade. Second, the sound of principles, deciding what would be fair and what would be right. Finally, reason in all its glory took control.

He ran. She could have smiled.

Hermione got up and shot a spell at the newcomer. Colin cursed the new Death Eater before narrowly escaping.

Hermione gauged both opponents, calculating her options, watching as they both made their way towards her from opposite sides.

"Give it up, Mudblood," the Death Eater said as he lowered his hood. Draco Malfoy. She should have guessed. He laughed bitterly and wiped his face. There was a bloodied wound underneath his left eye, making his smirk look awkward and misplaced. "You're surrounded."

She didn't give up. She pointed at the other Death Eater and shouted.

"_Stupefy!_"

The Death Eater deflected it. "_Expelliarmus!_" he yelled back, pointing at Hermione's wand. Immediately after she deflected his curse, Draco snuck up behind her and wrapped his robe around her neck—_when did he take that off!?_—trying to choke her.

She struggled. Oh, did she struggle. She kicked, bit his hand, threw her head back and head-butted him, clawed at the robe used to suffocate her. As her consciousness gradually began to flee, she watched as the other Death Eater took off his hood.

"Theo," she choked out in a gentle whisper.

Theodore Nott slowly readied his wand at her. Her squirming stopped as she took in a deep breath. He looked away from her, wrist starting to flick as he opened his mouth to speak—

Hermione used whatever upper body strength she had left to hold on to Draco and kick Theodore with both feet. He tumbled backwards, surprised at her force. Hermione and Draco fell to the floor.

She scrambled away from her assailant and reached for her wand. Theodore blocked her path and looked down on her with a carefully masked stare. He pointed his wand at her and uttered a spell she could not hear.

Draco's growl was the last thing she heard. "Mudblood bitch."

x.x.x

Hermione woke up cold. She got up quickly, too quickly—the blood rushed to her head and made her woozy. Her hand reached for her forehead instinctually, her upper-body strength feeling weighed down.

She looked at the deadweight cuffed to her wrists. _Chains_. Looking around, she wasn't surprised to find herself in the dungeons of Hogwarts. For a moment, she hesitated. _This could be anywhere. Is it really Hogwarts?_

Hermione closed her eyes and held her head. "How long was I out for?"

Theodore, hidden in the corner of the room, spoke without moving. "Three hours. Maybe more."

"Are we still in Hogwarts?"

No answer. Hermione licked her lips, swallowed; tried to get the dry taste out of her mouth. "Why aren't I dead?"

It was more of a statement than a question. A moment passed. Draco, stepping out of the shadows, stood in front of Hermione and sneered. "I think we all know why you're still breathing, Granger."

She narrowed her eyes at him before spitting on his shoes. He retaliated by kicking her in the stomach. She doubled over and wheezed heavily just as Theodore stood up and shoved Draco aside. "Watch it, Malfoy," he muttered to the blond.

Draco made eye-contact with the witch. "See?" He glared at Theodore before making his way to the door.

"Have they gone yet?" Theodore asked his fellow Death Eater, his eyes on Hermione. She pretended not to notice.

"No," Draco answered, looking through a small hole in the door. "It looks like they're trying to surround the perimeters, get everyone cornered."

Theodore quietly cursed, running a hand through his black hair. Hermione spotted her wand tucked away in his robe. Her heart began to beat swiftly in her chest, commanding her to action.

She studied the pair carefully as Draco and Theodore spoke in muted tones. Draco with his platinum blond hair; Theodore with his almost-black brown locks. One pale, one slightly tanned. One deathly immature, the other too mature for his age. Arrogance met quiet contemplation; obnoxiousness met cryptic and mysterious behavior.

Both, however, were tall and lanky. Wealthy purebloods. Slytherins. Death Eaters. Was that all they had in common?

No. She had forgotten, or perhaps she did not want to remember.

They continued to talk. She couldn't hear anything. Hermione furrowed her brows before she spoke.

"Theo."

Draco and Theodore stopped mid-conversation to look at Hermione. She had whispered it tenderly, as she would to a lover.

"Theo," she said again, stronger this time. A pause. "Why?"

"Why what, Granger?" Draco sneered. "Why are you such a bloody annoyance? Why are you so pathetic as to risk your life for that creepy Creevey kid? Why—"

"No need to dodge the question, you wanker, if it isn't aimed at you," Hermione spat. She sent a cool glance at Theodore, waiting.

Silence. And then—

"I had no choice."

Hermione stood up slowly, body aching. "There's always a choice. Own up to your decision, Nott. You made your choice perfectly—"

"I had. No. Choice." Theodore spat the words out quite vehemently. "I needed to survive, _Granger_."

"_I_ needed to survive," she responded, anger rising. "We _all_ needed to survive." A pause, and then, a silent plea. "I could have ran. I could of have hid in the Muggle world. Instead, I chose to fight."

"As did I."

She strode purposefully towards him; the chains yanked her back. She didn't let Draco's laughter imprison her passion, her fury. "Fighting?" she asked. "What exactly are you fighting for? Do you fight for the same reason as Draco? As your father? As Voldemort?"

Draco moved forward and struck Hermione with his hand. "Don't you dare utter the Dark Lord's name upon your ungrateful lips," he said, almost inaudibly. Theodore tensed. Hermione wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, tasting blood.

"What's the matter, Malfoy," she asked. "Don't like it when a Muggleborn trash-talks your beloved Mudblood?"

Draco lunged. Theodore grabbed him by the shoulders and attempted to restrain him. Neither Theodore nor Hermione noticed Draco reach for his wand.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Hermione flung backwards, her body hitting the wall with full-force. She blacked out for the second time that day.


	2. Ethos

**Quick Note:** I update my livejournal more regularly with fics than I do anywhere else. To read some of my fics sooner, friend me ! URL is on my profile.

* * *

Ethos—the sounds of arguing, of right versus wrong—heard in the distance. Hermione pretended to sleep. There was a ringing in her head and a pain racking her body that did not cease.

She managed to make out the words of her captors. Draco, bolstering the ideals of a winner; Theodore, composedly supporting the chance for survival.

"We need her to escape," Theodore said, his voice wrapping around Hermione. "Perhaps we can strike a deal. Use her as our hostage. Make a trade."

Draco groaned. "We're getting nowhere. You know the price on Granger's head; we've got to get her to the Dark Lord. We'll be famous. Rewarded." He leaned in closer to Theodore. "You'll get your father back."

"I don't need my bloody father back," Theodore bit out.

"Blood runs thicker than water," Draco countered. "And our blood sings the same tune. Her blood doesn't."

Theodore crossed his arms over his chest and remained quiet for a moment. Hermione opened her eyes and watched the pair openly. Theodore sighed. "I'm going to grab some food and water." He turned to the wall adjacent from Hermione, knocked on it three times, and pushed through to the next room.

She blinked and looked around. Were they still in the dungeons at Hogwarts? This room was smaller; less furniture, colder, more mold on the walls. The sound of a leak caught her attention; she looked up at a corner, noticing water dripping down from the ceiling. She sniffed; it smelled of death.

"Awake, Mudblood?"

An all too familiar voice. She grunted, too stubborn to speak or move, and ignored him. Hoped to a god somewhere that he would return the same chivalry and ignore her, as well.

But he, of course, was a Malfoy, and chivalry towards those with Muggle parents did not suit him at all.

"What's the matter, Granger?" he chided, arrogantly sauntering towards Hermione. "Nervous your little boytoy isn't here to protect you?"

She struggled to sit. "Piss off, Malfoy."

He kneeled in front of her, watching her through narrowed eyes. Hermione's chains clanked together, filling the silence. After a moment, he spoke.

"Why Nott, Granger."

"Why not what?" she smirked. He snorted.

"You picked him," he continued, ignoring her pun. "You picked him out of all of us. You picked him instead of me." Draco leaned in closer. There was no room for Hermione to breathe at ease. "Why."

She felt like vomiting. His breath was hot and beat uncomfortably against her face. He smelled like…boy. The way only a boy smells after the sweat dries and mixes with the atmosphere of a room. His face, usually pristine and polished, was now caked in soot and dirt. Draco's eyes, though…she would never forget his piercing gaze.

"You didn't show…potential," she answered carefully. "He…he was different. Remained neutral, or at least didn't show his bigotry on his sleeve." Hermione licked her dried lips. She didn't miss Draco's gaze wandering towards her mouth. "He was quiet."

Draco stared hard at her. "It's always the quiet ones."

Hermione stared, realization dawning slowly upon her features. "You're jealous."

He snorted. "Jealous? Jealous of that prat, Nott?" He turned away. "You're out of you sodding mind, Granger."

She reached for him without thinking; made him face her again. "Your father is Lucius Malfoy."

"I know."

"Everyone expected you to accept the Dark Mark."

"I _know_, Granger."

"You hated us before you even knew us," she continued. "You hated us because of our parents. Our lack of proper lineage."

He sneered in response. "So I was unworthy of perfect Potty and his sidekicks' forgiveness. Spare me."

"If you didn't want forgiveness," she challenged. "What did you want?"

Her breath came in steady paces. His became ragged. "If you must know, Mudblood," he answered, "I wanted…"

He frowned and thought better of answering. He stood up in a flash and whipped around, striding towards the door.

Hermione inhaled before trying again. "What did you want, Draco—"

The use of his first name set him off. He didn't turn around. "I wanted a chance, Granger," he said harshly.

"A chance for what?" she asked, just as harsh.

He ran his fingers through his hair; pulled at it. Turned away from the door and stared at the ceiling. "A chance to prove myself. It didn't matter what I was proving, it didn't matter back then—"

"Dumbledore gave you a chance for redemption," she interrupted coolly.

Draco smirked. "Redemption?" His voice peaked a little higher than usual. "Redemption? I didn't care about redeeming myself, Mudblood."

Hermione wiped her hand over her forehead. "Then why does it bug you that Theo and I…" she didn't finish. She didn't need to.

He came at her violently. Grabbed her shoulders and slammed her against the cold stonewall. She hissed to keep from crying out.

"What did he have that I didn't, Granger?" The look in his eyes was deadly. "What made him better than me? What made you take a chance on him?"

"I already told you—"

He banged her against the wall again. This time, she cried out. "Then tell me again."

She coughed up blood. Breathed in quick breaths. Loose strands of her wild hair stuck to her sweaty face. Hermione wished she could push them behind her ears. She settled for glaring at Draco.

"What do you want to hear, Malfoy?" A pause; testing his limits. "That he fucked me better? That he—"

Draco grimaced and tugged violently at her chains, causing her to fall into him. "Remember your place, you little Mudblood whore."

The wall opened. Draco pushed Hermione away from him and stood up. Theodore walked in with a small amount of food and a pitcher of water. He looked at his fellow Death Eater then glanced at Hermione. Draco dusted off his robes, trying to maintain an air of composure.

"Draco," Theodore stated quietly.

Draco strode towards Theodore and swiped a tiny piece of bread from his hands. He ripped a part off with his mouth and went to sulk in a corner.

x.x.x

Hermione knew someone from the Order would find her eventually. How long had it been—days? Weeks? Could the battle of Hogwarts really last for over a month? Regardless, it was just a matter of time until Draco and Theodore were caught.

Unfortunately, she didn't factor in the fact that Theodore, although quiet, was obviously clever. She saw a flicker of that brilliance while they studied, while they talked before the war, but she would have never guessed he would go to such lengths to achieve his goals. _I guess it makes sense that he's a Slytherin,_ she mused bitterly.

Theodore had managed to keep Draco and himself in the shadows, without anyone catching them. He managed to create a disclosed location (_possibly within Hogwarts,_ Hermione reminder herself) and was able to provide water and food. He somehow convinced Draco that she was necessary, that she had to be kept alive. How he did it, Hermione could not guess. In a silent way, she admired him for his twisted brilliance.

She rarely slept. She didn't trust either of them as far as she could throw them, and that in itself—considering her condition—was ridiculously impossible. She didn't always see them as distrusting, though. During school, somehow their guards casually dropped and their eyes felt a little more warmer. She was able to talk to them both candidly—especially Theodore.

He had always sat alone in the library and, like Hermione, read books that had nothing to do with his schoolwork. Hermione liked that he didn't take up teasing her when Draco and his gang came along. She liked that he wasn't the poster child for Slytherin. She liked that, after a while, she was able to break down his blank expression and see inside of him. See something new.

Draco, on the other hand, was something else entirely. He believed in some—not all, but enough—of Voldemort's ideologies because it made him feel special. Feel powerful. It took Hermione a while to figure that out. Whenever his delusion of specialness was challenged, he lashed out. Hermione didn't have the patience for his childish ways. She enjoyed the comfort of Theodore's maturity.

Hermione looked up and caught Theodore's gaze. He sat perfectly still.

"Funny how things change," he said, his voice raw. Hermione blinked. It was the first time she had heard him speak in a while. She couldn't find her voice for a moment.

"W-where's Malfoy?" she asked. He quirked an eyebrow, she scowled in response. "Not that I care."

Theodore stood up. Hermione anxiously waited for him to make his way towards her. Craved it, even. He walked to her slowly; knelt down before her carefully. She probably looked fragile; hollow and empty from the lack of sunlight and the lack of nourishment. The only time she able to leave the various rooms she was placed in was when she had to pee or shit or vomit.

He brushed his hand against her check, softly. She turned away. "Where's Malfoy?"

He swallowed, taking his hand away. "He's contacting some allies of ours and sending them our exact perimeters."

Hermione shook her head. "Why didn't you do that before?"

"Couldn't trust the airwaves."

"And you can trust it now?"

"We're underground. Your friends won't be able to track us, thanks to our communication system."

Hermione fidgeted. "How long?"

Theodore looked at her carefully.

"How long until they arrive?"

He glanced back at the wall he was sitting at. Hermione looked over his shoulder and noticed a few markings on the stones; a few calculations. Why didn't she see that before?

"Give or take…another seven or ten minutes."

Hermione remained silent. He spoke her name softly, her first name, as if it were a prayer. She ignored him, rubbing her hands together. He sighed.

"I'm…sorry things aren't different," he said after a moment's pause.

"I am, too," she said stiffly, still avoiding his eyes.

He shifted. "I wish I could make it better."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like a kiss could make everything all better, Theo."

Theodore gently placed her face in his palms. "You never know until you try."

He closed the space between them, pausing for the briefest of moments. Quietly asking for permission. She reached up for his robes and pulled him closer to her, savoring the feel of his lips upon hers. Dry and bleeding, their mouths yielded to the comfort of one another. He broke away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers, sighing out her name—

"Hermione."

She pulled him in again, stroking his neck lightly with her fingers. He carefully grabbed her wandering hand and guided it down, down, down towards his collarbone, his chest, his ribcage. Her hand brushed against a wand—_my wand?_—as he massaged the back of her head.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly. Theodore was too smart to let his guard down. He was also smart enough to know that _she_ knew when his guard was down.

Her hand brushed against her wand again and he moaned out her name. She skillfully snagged her wand out of Theodore's inside pocket and tucked it in the back of her shoe, letting her robe cover it.

Should she thank him? No, there was a reason—even if Hermione couldn't currently fathom it—why he didn't openly give her wand back to her.

The stonewall opened and Draco walked in with a book, immediately disgusted. He openly stared at the forbidden lovers. Ex-lovers, at that. He threw the book at Theodore's back.

"Ow!" Theodore exclaimed, breaking off the kiss with Hermione and rubbing his back. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Got your attention, didn't it?" Draco replied smugly, ignoring Hermione. "Avery and his team should be here in less than an hour. Ready to watch your girlfriend die?"

Theodore spoke to Draco while watching their prisoner. She was whispering something inaudible to her chains. "She isn't going to die, Malfoy."

"Oh yeah? Not thinking of turning your back on me, are you?"

Theodore glanced at Draco. He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a pair of chains dropping to the floor. Both Slytherins barely had a chance to react before Hermione pointed her wand at Draco.

"_Stupefy!_"

Theodore reached for his wand just as Hermione cursed it out of his hands with an "_expelliarmus!_"

He watched in awe as she quickly shouted "_accio wand_". She grinned; it had all been planned out during her first night here. She just had to wait for opportunity to present itself.

"Alright, Nott," she said weakly. "Lead the way."

Theodore looked at Draco. She watched as he contemplated his options, making calculations, the mechanics of his thoughts mirroring hers.

"Where do you want to go, Granger?"

Her stomach growled loudly. She looked at Theodore and found, to her surprise, him smiling. She muttered a levitating spell she learned in her first year at Hogwarts and followed Theodore out of the room, with Draco floating unconsciously behind her.


	3. Pathos

* * * **A/N:** Huge apologies ! I've been out of fanfic for this whole school year; but now that classes are done, I've jumped right back in. Provided a lengthy chapter for your enjoyment :) While I had originally intended to make this only three chapters, I think I'm going to go the distance. Expect a few more in the coming weeks ! * * *

* * *

Pathos. Although she'd never admit it aloud, passion was her guiding principle. Most would suspect logic as her master; she was, as everyone knew, the brightest witch the wizarding world had seen yet. Still, others would proclaim she was a slave to ethos; Hermione did, after all, have a strict sense of right and wrong. She was a strong moral backbone as Harry Potter's 'sidekick.' Creating S.P.E.W., seeking out potential Death Eaters in her spare time and trying to convert them, telling Harry and Ron off when they were doing something immoral. But pathos—

If she had no feelings, she wouldn't have brazenly marched forward under the hood of reason. If she had no emotions, she wouldn't have made her principles clear, wouldn't have argued for her stance on life.

If she had no passion, she wouldn't be here, now, gathering her strength and imprisoning Theodore and Draco at their secret location.

Hermione smiled softly and stood up, pushing herself away from the table. Her stomach content, her mind alert…everything, so far, was going smoothly.

She snuck a glance at Draco, who was still _stupefied_. Hermione contemplated performing the counter-curse, deciding against it at the last moment. _Better he stay quiet than conscious._ Theodore watched her, his hair loosely covering his face. Hermione patted her robes, making sure the two Slytherins' wands were still tucked safely inside.

"Show me your communication device," Hermione commanded as she turned towards Theodore.

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared defiantly. Hermione briefly wondered if he was trying to fool an audience or just himself.

She waited. Theodore showed no signs of faltering. Hermione pointed her wand at him and began muttering a curse. His eyes showed signs of confusion, of unfamiliarity—_No, Theo, not even you would know this spell._ She flicked her wrist towards Draco and muttered the same curse.

A neon green wisp of light floated between the Slytherins. Draco continued to float unconsciously; Theodore opened his mouth to speak but stopped short when his body slowly started to float.

He struggled to get down. Hermione chuckled. Theodore snarled.

"Herm—" he shut his mouth and tried again. "Granger!"

She looked at him expectedly.

"Stop—get me down from here!"

"I'm not doing anything," Hermione said nonchalantly.

Theodore's body mirrored Draco's unconscious one. "Then how the bloody hell are you doing this?"

"You're linked to Malfoy, now," she answered, suppressing a grin. "You'll be stupefied in a minute if you don't tell me where your communicator is."

Theodore narrowed his eyes at her. "It's a catch-twenty-two, regardless," he said as he floated. "You still won't know where the communication device is."

"True," Hermione murmured. "But how long will it take me to find on my own? Perhaps you'd rather wake up at the Order to be dealt with by Harry and Ron and Lupin and—"

"Fuck, Granger," Theodore muttered. He seemed silly, very un-Theodore-like, floating quietly in the air wearing a frown. "I'd tell you to follow me, but what good would that do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just tell me where to go, Nott."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "_Rennervate_ Malfoy first."

"Why the bloody hell would I do that?"

Theodore smirked. "You wouldn't. Unless you want my help. Or…" Theodore glanced around mockingly. "You could always just find everything on your own."

She fumed. How dare he turn the tables on her like that? Hermione mulled over his proposition quietly.

Theodore uncrossed his arms and scratched his head. "You really hate Malfoy that much, then? And here I thought it was just some pent-up tension."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Tension is always pent-up, Theo." She aimed her wand at Draco, hesitating slightly. "_Rennervate_."

The blond Slytherin came to. He blinked before shuffling drastically in mid-air. Hermione laughed as a flashback of Draco as a ferret, bouncing in the air, played before her eyes.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Draco yelled. Theodore sighed, keeping still—or at least, as still as one could be when suspended in the air. It reminded Hermione of Muggle astronauts. She wondered briefly if any Wizards had ever been into space.

"Granger's locked us in a curse," Theodore explained.

Hermione lifted her chin slightly. "It's an invisible connection between you two," she explained matter-of-factly. "It links you so that—"

"For Merlin's sake, Granger, would you just bloody shut the hell up!?" Draco was fuming. Hermione narrowed her eyes at his impatience.

"It's just a little further until we reach communication," Theodore said softly to Hermione.

Draco swirled in Theodore's direction. "Are you crazy?! We're _helping_ now?"

Theodore refolded his arms over his chest. Draco threw him a dirty look which, Hermione mused, was usually intended for her.

"You would think," she said aloud, "that after spending so much time in your Death Eater camps or whatever, you two wouldn't mind spending time together." She disabled the levitation spell and watched as both Slytherins dropped gracefully to the floor. "Now, we've got somewhere between five and forty-five minutes to get out of here, depending on which one of you is correct about the time. Seeing as I don't plan on playing the role of the hostage bit any longer, let's be on our way."

Theodore and Draco both stared at her. "You are aware you wasted about, I'd say, maybe half of your allotted time sophistically explaining what we are dully aware of," Theodore said.

Draco snorted in response. "You know, Nott, I'll wager that not only was she dreadfully aware of wasting time, but she fancied a bit of showing off before leading us to our doom."

"She does get a lovely color in her cheeks when she's listing off answers," Theodore added thoughtfully.

"Couldn't help but notice she tints that same color when someone plays with her—"

"Enough!" Hermione squeaked with eyes wide before Draco could finish. "Of all the wizards in all the world, I had to be stuck with you _both_!" She walked up to Theodore and poked him in the back with her wand. "Now _move_."

Draco rocked on his heels. "The best part is, I bet he's utterly used to that sort of thing." Hermione glanced back at Draco. He looked around, as if it were obvious. "You know," he said as he imitated Hermione. "The poking?"

"You would know, Malfoy," Theodore replied before walking through the corridor. Draco felt a tug and was forced to follow pursuit. Hermione trailed at the end, gripping the wand tightly.

x.x.x

Calling it a "communication device" was putting it simply.

Hermione was not a technological person. In the Muggle world, computers held no sway over her. Knowledge had to have texture, like the type found in lectures and musty ancient books and on notes. Anything regarding dry and cold mechanics could not, in her mind, produce the same results as colorful and _real_ as the wizard techniques around her.

With that being said, it was with a strange combination of awe and disgust that she looked upon Theodore's invention. It wasn't quite a telephone, nor was it a radio. On one side, there was a two-way speaker of which the wizard on this end could delegate a conversation. Next to the speaker was a series of tubes; green, yellow, blue, and even pink—"No, _red_," Draco had persisted—floated down it's designated glass case and into the mechanics. Hermione assumed it ran multiple potions at once, dealing with transfiguring sound waves or whatever they called it in the Wizarding world.

Instead of voicing her opinions or giving away her amazement, Hermione turned to Theodore and tapped her foot several times. She finally opened her mouth to speak, not trusting the words which might tumble out of her. "How?"

Theodore grinned. Draco stepped forward and pointed to himself. "I helped build it, you know. In fact, if it weren't for you and your intolerable appetite for shoving information down other people's throats, perhaps Theodore would never have even researched your good friend, Thomas Edison."

"Or any other Muggle studying the underlying currents of electricity," Theodore mused. "I had always known about electric things, but it wasn't until that night of experimentation I actually understood what electric was."

"What 'electricity' was," Hermione corrected automatically.

Draco stepped between Theodore and Hermione. Theodore looked at the ceiling in annoyance and placed his hands in his robe's pockets. "Next time," Draco said, "if there is a next time, I mean, you might want to think carefully about who you encourage to read. Didn't know you were such a dolt as to go around handing valuable information to Death Eaters, eh?"

Hermione looked past Draco. Theodore kept his eyes at the ceiling. She sighed quietly. "Back then, we weren't enemies." The witch shook her head and recomposed herself. She raised her wand in both Slytherins' direction. "Now. Connect me to the Order. Let me speak to Harry."

x.x.x

"Harry?"

Her voice was frantic. She gripped the machine tighter with her hands and shook it. "Harry, can you hear me? Harry!" A pause. She bent over the device and tightened her grip. A few strands of hair fell over her face and she, too frustrated to move it, yelled into the speaker.

"Harry, please respond!" She shook it. "Someone, say something!"

Hermione waited. Only a few seconds managed to go by before she got impatient. She kicked the table and the entire device rattled. Draco and Theodore watched her closely from the corner of the room.

A static emerged from the depths of the speaker. There were words, mumbled words, and it cut out every few seconds. "Hello?" Hermione asked loudly. The static remained. She wondered if the person on the other line had the common sense to walk up to the object broadcasting her message. Theodore informed her she had to think of something tall and metallic within the stronghold of the Order. Hermione chose the coat-rack she so clearly remembered in her mind.

Perhaps the reason the communication had been so shoddy was because of the coats possibly present on the rack. She inhaled. Lifted her chin. Straightened out her robes. With a gentler touch, Hermione fingered the tubes and knobs of Theodore's device. She leaned over the speaker and spoke in a softer voice, with more authority.

"Hello," she stated. "This is Hermione Granger. I have been taken hostage by a Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott while running with Colin Creevey to safety in Hogwarts. I suspect I am being held underground, where there is water above us, and I have reason to believe we are still physically connected to Hogwarts. I repeat, this is Hermione Granger. I have been taken hostage by Draco and Theodore, and I am trying to escape inevitable doom."

Hermione clicked off the machine as Draco snorted. "Inevitable doom, eh?"

"I've never known Granger to be a blind optimist," Theodore responded.

The witch swallowed. Ran her hands over her ridiculously tangled and frizzy hair. Theodore watched her intently. She knew he recognized her psychological patterns; they had spent so much time in and out of Hogwarts under the most stressful of conditions.

She flicked both her wrists in habit. One of them made a cracking sound. Hermione checked over her robes once more, straightening them out with the palms of her hands, before speaking.

"I am about to do something unforgivable."

At this, Draco joined Theodore in staring at the witch. He fidgeted while Theodore stood still.

Hermione raised her wand. She calculated which wizard to hit, which one would be more useful. Draco's eyes widened. Theodore did not move.

"Granger," Draco said carefully. He slowly lifted his hands up to the same level as his waist, as if willing her to stop.

She thought back to what Harry had told her about Draco. She stared at Theodore and wondered if he had ever practiced this obscure branch of magic. Shifting her wand from each wizard slowly raised her heartbeat and strengthened her resolve.

Suddenly, she cast her arm in Draco's direction. "_Imperio!_"

A calm washed over Draco both mentally and physically. Theodore whipped his head to his partner's direction before turning back to Hermione.

"He doesn't even know the way out!" he blurted in a rare lapse of composure.

"I figured as much," Hermione said quietly, choosing to avoid Theodore's eyes. Draco walked to Hermione out of her accord. She handed him his wand.

Draco clasped his right hand over it, even though he was left-handed, and pointed it in Theodore's direction. "_Legilimens!_"

Theodore fell back and clutched his head with a yell. Hermione looked on with a stoic face. She reminded herself it was the best means of her survival, and it was much better than torturing the two until they led her to freedom. She remembered Harry had told her about his occlumency lessons with Snape; by a stroke of luck, she guessed right in assuming Snape would have taught his favorite Slytherin the skill of legilimency. Hermione hoped she guessed right a second time by assuming Theodore had no skill in blocking unwanted trespassers.

"Tell me what you see, Draco Malfoy," she said calmly.

"There's a door which hits the sun," Draco recalled, void of emotion. "That's the exit."

Hermione rolled her strained neck to relieve some of the tension racking her body. "And how do we get there?"

There was quiet. Theodore yelled in an effort to block the mental attack.

"Straight, right, left, curve, slope, left, left, straight, right—"

Hermione shook her head. Draco stopped. She took the nearest object to her and transfigured it into a piece of parchment as well as a quill and ink. Grabbing Draco by the arm, she led him to the table. "Draw it out, please."

Draco's inked lines visibly shook as he drew out a map. Theodore was breathing heavily, hands on his knees. He inhaled deeply before straightening. When he stood, Hermione saw a harshness in his eyes which had not been found on his features since before—well, before _they_ both happened.

She glanced over at Draco, who was still drawing the details of the map. She preferred the impersonal mindlessness of the imperius curse over the dark, accusatory stare of Theodore Nott. Hermione shifted her weight from one leg to the other and tapped her wand against the desk, willing herself to stare at the map. What was she supposed to do, apologize?

"All's fair in love and war," Hermione said softly. She heard Theodore give a derisive laugh.

"Once a Muggle, always a Muggle," he said, quiet but scathingly. It was his tone which always alarmed her. Unlike Draco, Theodore wove his malice through a hushed voice. "It's not just pretty little magic tricks that make real women witches."

She stared hard at Draco's penmanship. She wished he would hurry so she could stop participating in such dark magic, get away from all of this. "And that's what it all comes down to, isn't it?" she asked. "What this war, all these conflicts, are really all about."

Theodore didn't reply. She wasn't going to turn around. With resolution, she kept talking as Draco kept drawing. "What logical or ethical reason is there behind blood purity? I've thought it over and I've rethought it over and I can't find the answer." Draco was finished with the map. She put down her wand and picked up the map, examining it carefully as she spoke. "It's fanaticism, really, which is drowned in passion and empty of moral consequence, of reasoning. Muggles are—"

Hermione felt it too late. A pull at her robes, and Theodore had grabbed both of the wands back. She reached for her wand before Draco had a chance to snatch it. With arm extended and wand pointed in their direction, she watched as Theodore handed Draco his wand back. They never broke eye-contact with her. She looked between the Slytherins in shock. "How did you—"

Draco smirked cruelly. "Rule number one about Unforgivables."

"Never break concentration," Theodore finished.

She ran. A hex was fired in her direction. Another one sizzled past, grazing her left shoulder. She stumbled with a gasp and forced herself onward. Feet traveled without thinking as she glanced down at the parchment, memorizing the steps ahead.

"You'll pay for this you fucking mudblood!" Draco yelled down the stony corridors. All in all, she was more afraid of what Theodore was planning. Even though she had violated Draco of his freedom, of his will, Theodore was the one who trusted her to begin with. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and pushed her momentum. Hermione turned right as a curse hit the corner.

The ceiling seemed to grow shorter; the hallways more narrow. The candles along the walls had not been lit; she had to be nearing the exit. Hermione whispered "_lumos_" to her wand, out of breath but determined to get out.


End file.
